


a love that doesn't need to be said

by Fuzzyface



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Emotional Support, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 10:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzzyface/pseuds/Fuzzyface
Summary: Everything about Beau feels like a reminder. Her long hair spilled across her pillow, the warmth of her back where it’s pressed to Jester’s bare stomach, the sweaty, earthy, nice smell she always has after a long day traveling.Jester’s too wiped, for once, to feel like a creep for noticing these little things. She just breathes it in, and feels a little like she wants to cry, for some reason.





	a love that doesn't need to be said

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Episode 59, when Jester inadvertently poisoned herself with spider meat and Beau sat and took care of her the whole night like a good and supportive gf. (As in canon, there's several mentions of vomiting/sickness but nothing too explicit.)
> 
> Beaujester Week Day 5 - Emotional Support

It’s about an hour to midnight when Jester finally stops convulsing enough to sit up straight. She’s still shaking - less from pain now and more from the cold air on her sweaty skin - and she still has a vice grip on Beau’s upper arm. But Beau knows from experience that eventually there’s nothing left for your stomach to get rid off, no matter how badly it wants to.

She’s exhausted, close to nodding off from where’s she’s kneeling next to Jester’s hunched form, half hidden in the overgrown weeds and ivy that snake around the edges of the fortress. She’s not going back to the bubble though, not until she’s sure Jester can stand up on her own. Which, for the moment, isn’t looking likely.

“You alright?” She murmurs, fully aware that if someone asked her that while she were the one hunched over a puddle of her own stomach acid she’d break their jaw. But Jester nods, pushing herself up onto her knees and flashing Beau a weak smile that doesn’t meet her eyes.

“I’m okay,” she says hoarsely, and the smile immediately drops as she lurches sharply to one side. Beau reaches for her on instinct, even as she cringes slightly in preparation of another round of dry heaving, but Jester steadies herself. Her face is deathly pale but she’s finally breathing evenly again, and Beau lets out a tiny huff of relief.

“You wanna go back now?” She asks as gently as she can. For as tired as she is - still sore down to the bones from the fight - she knows Jester feels worse. She’ll fall asleep out here with her, if she has to. But luckily Jester bobs her head, a little more enthusiastically this time.

Jester almost tips straight over as she tries to get to her feet, so Beau slings an arm around her waist and hauls her up. She worries she’s being a little dramatic but the moment she’s got Jester’s weight against her the tiefling practically melts into her side, burying her face against Beau’s collar and sighing deeply. Her breath smells sickly sour.

“Come on, let’s go,” Beau says, jostling her lightly in an attempt at enthusiasm. She regrets it immediately when Jester gives the tiniest whine of pain. So Beau shuts up and just leads them the rest of the way to the bubble in silence.

They pass through with a nearly imperceptible ripple and Beau sighs at the considerable hike in temperature inside the dome. Still not _warm_, but better than outside. Jester nervously eyes the sleeping bodies of their traveling companions.

“Are they gonna make me leave again if I puke in the bubble?” She asks in a small voice.

“Nah, they’re all asleep,” Beau says, shooting a quick glance across the snoring, unmoving shapes as they duck the rest of the way into the forcefield. She knows it’s not exactly the answer Jester was looking for but she seems to accept it anyway. “Tell me if you _are_ gonna puke though, okay?”

“Okay,” Jester mumbles against Beau’s clavicle. Her breath is far too hot, but she shivers anyway.

She guides them to their bedrolls, stepping awkwardly around splayed limbs and discarded weaponry. Jester follows listlessly, and when Beau guides her to her to her blankets she drops down onto them like a sack of flour.

“You alright?” Beau asks instinctively, wincing at how loud her voice comes out. Quieter, “Jessie?”

“Mmph,” Jester groans, before pushing herself up into a sitting position. “I’m okay,” she sighs. She doesn’t sound truthfully, but she also doesn’t look like she’s about to double over and puke in her lap, so Beau takes her word for it.

Beau strips her own clothes off as quickly as she can, realizing for the first time the sheer amount of sweat and blood and grime that’s stuck between the fabric and her skin. She kicks them off to the side in the heap. Maybe they’ll have time to do laundry in the morning, maybe not. She’s too tired to give a shit right now.

She turns to check on Jester again and finds the tiefling struggling to tug her boots off. She nearly reaches out to help before deciding she’s probably babied Jester well to the point of embarrassment already tonight. Jester finally yanks them off with a grunt of effort and nearly throws them directly into Fjord’s head. She sighs heavily and moves to lay down, still otherwise fully-clothed.

“You wanna take your dress off?” Beau asks hesitantly, glancing at the half-dried stains down the front of it. She isn’t sure Jester’s even noticed yet, which, Beau can’t really blame her, given her current state.

Jester nods anyway, struggling a little to pull it up over her head before dropping it in a heap in her lap. Beau takes it by the driest parts of the fabric she can find and folds it carefully. Someone can clean it in the morning, probably. If not she’s sure one of them has something to spare.

Jester makes a small noise beside her, and Beau looks up to realize that she’s shivering pathetically now, still soaked in sweat and down to only her small-clothes. She feels a small pang of guilt as she watches Jester wrap her only blanket around herself and burrow into it miserably.

“Hey, Jes, here,” Beau says, and holds a corner of her own blanket out to her. She expects Jester to take it, and doesn’t know how to react when instead the tiefling rolls the few inches it takes to move from her bedroll to Beau’s and snuggles beneath the cover. Beau stares blankly at her for a moment, before her arms react on instinct and drop the blanket down over both of them. Jester makes another small noise, this time a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, alright, that’s - yeah,” Beau trails off, casting a quick glance around the bubble again. Everyone’s still dead asleep, and she feels like an idiot for being worried that they weren’t. Like she’s doing something _sneaky_ or _weird_ by sharing body heat with her mostly-naked roommate.

Actually it is weird, the more she thinks about it.

Beau’s not going to think about it at all then, she decides. She eases down onto the bedroll, wriggling a moment as she tries to adjust to sharing the relatively small space with an entire other body. But she’s lanky, to put it kindly, and Jester is too exhausted to care if Beau’s got a knee in her thigh and an elbow in her kidney. They make it work.

Beau watches Jester for a few minutes longer as the tiefling settles into a restless sleep. Her forehead is still slick with sweat and every once in a while her stomach will make a painful-sounding noise, but it looks like the worst of the poison is through her system. She’s still probably in for a rough morning, though. Beau tugs the blankets down a little more firmly around her.

She drifts to sleep eventually, listening to Jester’s uneven breathing in her ear.

~.~.~.~

Jester feels like shit. Her mouth tastes like sour milk and her legs are shaky and her insides feel curdled. She wants more than anything to just sleep it off but everytime her stomach roils she feels a sharp pang of fear that she’s going to throw up again and everyone’s going to yell at her. It makes it difficult to drift off.

She loves Yasha so, so much but she’s _never_ eating anything she gives her ever again.

Almost immediately she feels bad for thinking that. Yasha didn’t mean to poison her, she thought she was just sharing something nice. But Yasha also didn’t sit with her and hold her hair while she spit up the contents of her stomach into the dirt. That had been -

Beside her Beau let out a bone-shaking snore. Jester almost laughs at how deeply it reverberates in her chest. She knows the others like to bitch good-naturedly about Beau’s snoring, but it’s never bothered her. It’s a very loud, very present reminder that there’s someone else there, that she’s not going to wake up alone.

Everything about Beau feels like a reminder. Her long hair spilled across her pillow, the warmth of her back where it’s pressed to Jester’s bare stomach, the sweaty, earthy, nice smell she always has after a long day traveling. 

Jester’s too wiped, for once, to feel like a creep for noticing these little things. She just breathes it in, and feels a little like she wants to cry, for some reason. 

Maybe because she hasn't been sick and miserable like this since she was still living at home, when her mom would be there to kiss her sweaty forehead and tell her that she'd be okay. Or maybe because she’d assumed for so long that with her mom so far away nobody would take care of her like that anymore. She’d made herself heartbroken with that thought so many times. And yet -

“Beau?” Jester asks quietly. Beau’s eyes don’t open, but her snoring cuts off abruptly, so Jester knows she heard at least a little bit. She presses a little tighter to her roommate’s back. “Thank you.”

“Mmhm?” Beau grunts, head lolling slightly like she’s trying to find Jester in the dark, even with her eyes still closed. “Go t’ sleep, Jes,” she mumbles.

“Okay, okay,” Jester soothes, rubbing her thumb gently along the point of her hip until the little crease between her eyebrows smoothes out again. Beau gives a sigh that feels like it’s dragged up from the very tips of her toes, and Jester thinks about the fact that Beau sat with her for well over an hour, not sleeping, just stroking the hair out of Jester’ face and letting her squeeze her arm to the point of bruising. Not speaking, just being there.

There’s a warm feeling that swells in Jester from the inside out. She’s not certain of its name, but she thinks she has an idea. The cold prickle of fear that tugs her heart at the thought is smothered by the warmth pulsing from Beau’s skin to hers.

_I think I love you_, she whispers quietly in her head. Beau snores and across the dome Caduceus mumbles loudly in his sleep. It’s not quite right. She tries again. _I love you_, she thinks, a little louder, a little more sure. _I love you, Beau. I think maybe you love me, too._

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me posting the rest of my beaujester week fics like a month late at fuzzy-face.tumblr.com


End file.
